


Date Night: Room for Improvement

by John_lzhc



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Community: eleventy_kink, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_lzhc/pseuds/John_lzhc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <i>Eleven finally mans up and asks River out on a date. Naturally, he doesn’t arrive on time.</i></p><p>Carnivorous beetles, malfunctioning timeships, and lost flowers. Somehow, he doesn't think River's going to be impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night: Room for Improvement

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [spike_1790](http://spike-1790.livejournal.com/) for beta'ing.

He's late. He's very, very late. River downs the last of her vodka tonic and scowls. Her _second_ vodka tonic, she thinks, and scowls even more. She waves her glass at the barhand, who quickly delivers the third. It's considerably stronger this time. She gives him an inquisitive look.

“On the house. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, like you wouldn't believe. I _was_ expecting company.”

“Anyone in particular?” He angles.

“Someone special.” She doesn't qualify 'but I'm open to persuasion'. She's not that cross yes. But she will be soon. “If you see a lanky man with silly hair and a screwdriver wander in looking flustered, give him a kick and send him over.” The barhand laughs, and promises to do so. He won't; it's a very sophisticated restaurant, neo-French in fourth renascence style, caters to the elite, the powerful, and people it would be really, _really_ bad news to kick, but she appreciates the sentiment.

“Must be very special, to be worth waiting this long.”

“You have no idea.”

“You've waited this long for them, that gives me some idea. And you've only just started getting vodka in that tonic.”

“I find it helps to be sober when he turns up, there's usually a crisis to deal with. But I only have so much patience, it's hit the liquor or leave.”

“I hope you at least make him cover the tab.”

River smirks, pointedly _not_ telling him that she has every intention of cutting and running if she can distract the Doctor long enough for him not to notice. Or keep him here long enough for there to be a disaster for him to run towards, forgetting technicalities like bar bills in the process.

“Believe me, it's the least he can do. Ask me on a date, an actually date, and turn up this late, I expect a _lot_ more compensation than a few drinks. All night.”

River's finished the third drink and started debating the merits of cutting her losses and leaving compared to the merits of the vintage pernod, and possibly asking when the charming barhand gets off shift, by the time the Doctor stumbles in, wearing the hell out a DJ, looking just as flustered as she thought her would. All credit to the hopeful barhand, he catches the Doctor's eye and waves him over.

“River! I-”

“You have a time machine. You are a timelord, and you have a time machine. How are you nearly three hours late?”

“River, I can explain.”

“Oh I hope you can. Get a drink and start talking. And get me another, I think I'll need it.”

The Doctor sits down and orders 'two of whatever my scary friend was drinking' – he is really not winning any points right now.

“Well?”

“Well. Amy and Rory- have you met Amy and Rory yet? Lovely couple, the Ponds. They're on their honeymoon. Were on. I got a message on the psychic paper...”

 _Amy answered the phone frantically._

 _“Doctor?!”_

 _“You called?”_

 _“Oh thank god. Rory! It's the Doctor. You need to come and pick us up. Right now!”_

 _“What's wrong? I thought-”_

 _“There are foot long beetles!”_

 _“Oh, they're harmless.”_

 _“They're trying to eat my moisturiser!”_

 _“So give it them! I'm sure Mr Pond will buy you some more if you flutter your lashes. You've still got enough spending money don't you? I could-”_

 _“Doctor, I've already put it on!_

 _“They money?”_

 _“The moisturiser!”_

 _“Oh dear. I think that's probably not good.”_

“So basically, you're late because you were giving your friends a lift. Nice to know I rank so highly.”

“It wasn't just that! I tried to drop the Ponds off on a pleasure space cruiser, but...”

 _“What do you mean, there's another time-ship in the way?”_

 _“I'm not sure.”_

 _“Doctor!”_

 _“It looks like one of the 'scalpel' class. Earth origin, early experiments in time travel.”_

 _“And it's, what, stuck?”_

 _“Stuck in the vortex. Ohhh, that's very bad. If they try and rematerialise in that state they'll cause a feedback loop that'll suck all the energy out of the sun. Earth dies in the fortieth century.”_

 _“What do we do?”_

 _“Save them of course!”_

“So, the traffic was bad.”

“Sort of. I stopped off at the botanical gardens on Orion to buy you some flowers.” He smiled hopefully.

“Are are they in your pocket?”

“I sort of... lost them.”

“You're not helping your case here, Doctor.”

“Well, then I got a phone-call...”

 _“Doctor?”_

 _“Wilf?”_

 _“Is that you Doctor? You sound different.”_

 _“Well, you know, new man, new face. New voice comes with the package. What can I do for you?”_

 _“There's aliens nesting in the walls!”_

 _“Oh dear.”_

 _“I've called that Martha Jones up, she's coming over with her husband.”_

 _“Well I'm sure they're quite capable. It's not really the best time right now, I'm trying to get-”_

 _“Dona's coming home.”_

 _“What?”_

 _“That's why I called you. She'll be home before Martha gets here.”_

 _“I'll be right there.”_

“You went to see an old girlfriend.”

“No, we're not- look, if she remembers that aliens exist, her brain will explode.”

“Explode.”

“I didn't even get to see her, I chased them out of the hose, but they they ran away and I needed to catch them in case they came back. They're completely harmless, but a very obvious memory trigger. So I tracked them to a garden in Kent...”

 _“You! Come out of the shrubbery! I warn you, I'm armed.”_

 _“Brigadier?”_

“You went to visit an old work mate.”

“He had Neros spiders trying to nest in his hydrangeas!”

“But he was armed, it shouldn't have taken you both long to clear them.”

“What, shoot them? It's not their fault Dona's head would have exploded!”

“So then what-”

 _“Doctor, noble though this new attitude of yours is toward spiders, I really don't see what you hope to do with a bunch of orchids.”_

“You fed my flowers to a nest of spiders?”

“Great thing about orchids, the petals act as a powerful sedative to any invertebrate from the west end of the crab nebula. Once they where unconscious I took them back to Neros.”

“And then you came straight here?”

“Then I tried to replace the flowers. Daffodils. Daffodils are pretty!”

“Don't tell me, you had to use them to jury rig the TARDIS console.”

“Well, sort of.”

 _”What do you mean, they flower part goes on top and the stalk goes in the water?”_

River sighed. What was she supposed to do with him, for goodness sake. Sitting there all pretty and regretful, watching her with thinly veiled hope. She waved for another drink.

“Anything else?”

“Then I tried to come straight here.”

“Do I really want to ask about the 'tried'?”

“Well, you wouldn't come with me in the TARDIS-”

“You wouldn't let me.”

“You wouldn't give those diamonds back to the museum. I'm not aiding and abetting jewel theft.”

“Doctor, what relevance does this-”

“You wouldn't come with me, so you left me the coordinates on the psychic paper.”

“Yes, so you wouldn't lose them in the three seconds it should have taken you to get here. Yet I assume somehow you did?”

“Then Amy and Rory messaged me...”

River dropped her head into her hands and gowned.

“And you haven’t worked out how to read old messages yet, have you.” She said, and it was more statement than question.

“What?”

“Nothing. Spoilers. How many restaurants did you try before you found me? Scratch that, how many planets?”

“Just the one planet. Then I locked the TARDIS onto your wristband. She's parked in the service corridor. Um... I've done this badly, haven’t I?”

“Let's say there's definitely room for improvement.”

“Am I going to get a chance to practise?”

“Oh, sweetie. Spoilers.”


End file.
